%ISOlat1; %ISOlat2; %ISOnum; %ISOpub; ]> The unfortunate Concubine: Or Rosamond's Overthrow. Occasion'd by her / Brother's unadvisedly praising her Beauty and Shape, to two young Knights of / Salisbury, as they rid on the Road. University of California - Santa Barbara The Early Modern Center English Broadside Ballad Archive (EBBA) Director Patricia Fumerton Associate Director Carl G Stahmer ?-? Early Modern Center, University of California Santa Barbara Santa Barbara, CA 03/19/2016 35500

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Patricia Fumerton Early Modern Center - English Department University of California Santa Barbara, CA 93105 United States of America EMail: pfumer@english.ucsb.edu

1 NONE Court Lady, The SWeet youthful charming ladies fair, / Fram'd of the purest Mold, Houghton Library Hazlitt EC65 Editor none none none none Information in this section of the Source Description refers to the original ballad manuscript. 1: 107 The unfortunate Concubine: Or Rosamond's Overthrow. Occasion'd by her / Brother's unadvisedly praising her Beauty and Shape, to two young Knights of / Salisbury, as they rid on the Road. The unfortunate Concubine: Or Rosamond’s Overthrow. Occasion’d by her Brother’s unadvisedly praising her Beauty and Shape, to two young Knights of Salisbury, as they rid on the Road. The unfortunate Concubine: Or Rosamond's Overthrow. Occasioned by her Brother's unadvisedly praising her Beauty and Shape, to two young Knights of Salisbury, as they rid on the Road. ?-?

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 Early Modern Center Ballad Project Keyword Taxonomy advice affliction/ health alcohol Americas animals/ nature Bible/ biblical figures buildings/ architecture catastrophe children class clothing/ appearance country/ nation crime death economics/ commerce entertainments family Featured folklore gender holidays/ seasons infidelity labor/ craft law London love maritime marriage military/ war monstrosity mythology/ Classical news nobility/ court politics/ government procreation punishment race/ ethnicity religious concepts religious figures religious groups royalty rural life servitude sex/ sexuality supernatural/ magic travel trickery/ deceit urban life vice violence virtue vulgar humor youth/ age Library of Congress Subject Heading Taxonomy 3/19/2016 Santa Barbara, California, United States of America clothing/ appearance gender infidelity nobility/ court royalty violence Ballads, English 17th century Broadsides, England 17th century 3/19/2016 5:04:02 PM XBallad King, Joyce Created XML Version of Ballad 3/19/2016 5:04:02 PM Transcription Supervisor King, Joyce Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/19/2016 5:04:02 PM Double-Key Comparison and Merging Bell, Erik Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/19/2016 5:04:02 PM Transcriptionist Two Ward, Jayne Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/19/2016 5:04:02 PM Transcriptionist One McCants, Kristen Transcription of ballad manuscript 3/10/2016 Checker Katie Adkison Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/26/2015 Checker Rachel LevinsonEmley Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 2/24/2015 Bibliographer Rachel LevinsonEmley Initial Ballad Catalogue Record Created 12/1/2015 Checker Joyce King Edited Ballad Catalogue Record 12/1/2015 Checker Joyce King Edited Ballad Catalogue Record
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SWeet youthful charming ladies fair, Fram'd of the purest Mold, With rosie cheeks and silken hair, Which shine like threads of Gold; Soft tears of Pity here bestow For the unhappy Fate Of Rosamond, who long ago, Was most unfortunate. When Henry the second reign'd On the Imperial throne, How he this Flower gain'd, To you I shall make knowen. With all the Circumstances too, Which did her life attend, How first she into Favour grew, And of her fatal End. As three young Knights of Salisbury Were riding on the way, One boasted of a fair Lady, Within her Bower so gay: I have a sister, young Clifford said, But few Men doth her know, The Skin of her Face it doth appear Like drops of blood on Snow. My Sister's Locks of curled hair, Outshines the Golden ore, Her Skin for whiteness may compare with the fine Lilly Flower. Her breasts are lovely to behold, Like to the driven Snow, I would not for her weight in Gold,
King Henry should her know. King Henry had a bower near, Where they were riding by And he did Clifford overhear: Thought he immediately, Though I her Brother should offend, For that fair white and red, Forthwith I am resolv'd to send, To Grace my royal bed, The King who was of high Renown, Would not his Fancy pall For having writ his Pleasure down, he did youg Clifford call: Come hither to me, now out of hand, Come hither unto me, I am the King of fair England, My messenger thou shalt be. I to your Sister here have writ Three Letters seal'd with gold, No Messenger I think so fit As you; therefore, behold, Convey them to her hand with speed, Make not the least delay; My will and pleasure let her read, And my Commands obey. Young Clifford then the Letters took From Henrys Royal hand, Thow with a melancholy Look, Mounted out of hand. Soft tears bedim'd his noble Sight, His grieved heart was sad,
Altho' he was as brave a Knight, As any King Henry had. With that this noble Knight of Fame Rode on without delay, Until he to the Bower came Which was both rich and gay; She cry'd, when he knockt at the ring, Who raps so fierce and bold? Sister, I have brought from the King, Three Letters seal'd with Gold. Then with her fingers long and small, she broke the seales of Gold. And as she did to reading fall, At first they might behold The smiles of pleasant sweet delight, As if well satisfy'd: But ere had concluded quite, she wrung her hands, and cry'd, Why did you boast beyond your bounds, When oxford Town you see? You might have talk'd of hawks & hounds And never Bragg'd of me. When by the King I am defild'd, My Father's Grief 't will begin, He'll have no Comfort of his Child, Nor coming to my wedding. Go fetch me down my planet Book, straight from my priveat Room, For in the same I mean to look What is decreed my doom: The Planet-book to her they brought, And laid it on her knee; She found that all would come to nought, For poison'd she should be. I curse you, Brother, she cry'd, Who cause'd my destiny; I might have been some Lord's fair Brine, But you have ruin'd me. With that she call'd her waiting Maid, To bring her Riding-Hood; And to her Groom she likewise said, Go saddle my milk white steed. Some rid before for to report, Her coming to the King; As she approach'd the Royal Court, Sweet Peals of Bells did ring; A Garland over her Head they bore, To magnify her Charme; And as we came the King before,
He clasp'd her in his Armes. With blushes then she did beseech The King on her bare Knee, The words were these, I pray, my liege, What is your will with me. Said he, I sent for thee, To grace my Royal Bed; Now as he did his Mind disclose, She blushed Scarlet red. Blush not, my fairest Rosamond, Fear no unhappy Fate, For by my Kingly Power I can Place thee in happy State: No Lady in this Court of mine, Can purchase thy desert. Whose pleasant Looks & charms divine, Has won my Royal heart. The Gifts and presents of a King, Soon caus'd her to comply, Thinking there was not anything Like royal dignity. But as her bright and golden Scene In Court began to shine; The News was carry'd to the Queen, Of this new Concubine. At which she was inraged so, With Mallice in her Breast, That till she wrought her overthrow, She could not be at rest. She felt the fury of the Queen, Before she had flourish'd long, And dy'd just as she had foreseen, By force of poyson strong, The angry Queen with Malice fraught, Could not herself contain, Till she fair Rosamond had brought to her sad fatal Bane; The sweet and charming precious Rose, King Henry's chief delight, The Queen she to the Bower came, And wrought her hateful spight. But when she to the Bower came, Where Lady Clifford lay, Inraged Ellenor by Name, she could not find the way, Untill the silken Clew of thread, became the fatal Guide. Unto the Queen, who laid her dead, e're she was satisfy'd.
Alas! it was no small surprise to Rosamond the fair When death appear'd before her Eyes, no faithful Friend was there, That could not stand in her defence, to the Poyson by; So by the hand of Violence, she was compell'd to dye. O most renowned gracious Queen, Compassion take of me; I wish that I had never seen such royal dignity: Betray'd I was, and by degrees, a sad consent I gave; And now upon my bended Knees, I do your pardon crave. I will not pardon you, she cry'd, so take this fatal Cup, And you may well be satisfy'd, I'll see you drink it up. Then with her fair and milk white hand the fatal Cup she took; Which being drank, she could not stand but soon the world forsook. Now when the King was well inform'd, what Ellinor had done, His breast he smote, in wrath he storm'd, as if he would have run Besides his Senses, and he swore, for this inhumane deed, He never would Bed with her more; his royal Heart did bleed. The King did not stand pausing long, how to reward her Spleen; But straight in a close Prison strong, he cast his cruel Queen, Where she lay six and twenty Years, a long Captivity, Bathed in Floods of weeping Tears, then his death set her free, Now when her Son he did succeed his Father, Great Henry His royal Mother soon he freed from her Captivity; And she set many more at large, who long for debt had lain, Her Royal Pity did discharge hundreds in Edward's Reign.